deepundergroundpoetry.com

Loneliness

I forgot
what it was like to feel alien,
to feel cut from the city, cast on a barrel, clutching at splinters waiting to sink.
I forgot
what it was like to feel separated,
neither one thing nor the other, not enough rough and not enough power
to charge against the enemy in acts of peace,
rather live in the woods, quiet  
surrounded by smoke.
I forgot
what it was like to hear silence  
as if it were church bells after mass
humming the delights of the faithful and holy,
while sitting outside
thinking headstones and old shells
are far better company than living humans.
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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